


Just Friends

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: Hi, I love your stories. I know that you probably will not collect ideas any more, but I have one that bothers me. Here it is: Y/N loves Dean for some time, but he treats her more like a friend or at least she thinks so. One day Dean confesses his love, the best publicly. Y/N states that it is too good to be true, gets upset. Then escapes into the room, crying and begins to pack up to leave. Dean tries to stop her, but she insists that it was he only joked (there is a big argument, at least on her part). She leaves and hunts alone. I wonder if Dean would seek her and still reassure his feelings, which could take some time (because it’s all behavior results from a lack of confidence and a number of complexes) or he would have given himself the peace of mind and tried to forget?





	

Warnings: Angst, reader injury

Fic:

“Well, here’s to another successful hunt,” you say, holding up your beer bottle. The boys lift their bottles in return. You were exhausted, but you had decided to spend some time relaxing with your friends. You’d been in love with the older Winchester practically from the moment you’d met him and even though he didn’t feel the same way, you enjoyed spending time with him.

Dean always treated you as a friend, family really, but that only made things worse. You wished you could change your relationship, but that would never happen and you knew it. Sam had tried to help you before. He knew that you liked Dean and he had tried time and time again to get the two of you together. So far, nothing had come of it.

Over time, you’d decided to give up hoping that Dean might love you. Instead, you’d decided to move on. Despite your decision to try and find someone else, Sam kept trying to get the two of you together, which was rather frustrating at times. “Anyone else ready for another round?” Sam asks.

“I could use another,” Dean says.

“Me too,” you answer, “Thanks Sam.”

“No problem,” Sam says as he pushes himself up from his seat and heads to the bar. You begin looking around at the other people in the bar, deciding whether or not you’d be interested in one of them.

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you ask, your eyes flicking to his face. Something about him was different. He didn’t have his usual confident look about him. Instead, he looked almost nervous. His eyes dart away from your gaze and he gnaws on his bottom lip.

“It’s just, about earlier, I wanted to thank you for saving my life,” he says.

“It’s no problem,” you shrug, “It’s what friends do right? We look out for each other.”

“I guess,” Dean says, “But, I was thinking, I don’t want to be just friends.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“Us,” Dean answers, “I want to be with you.”

“You’re kidding right?” you question. He had to be playing with you.

“No,” he answers, “I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but I never let myself say it out loud. I - I’m in love with you Y/N.”

“Bullshit,” you scoff.

“What? No, Y/N, I’m completely serious,” Dean tells you as he reaches for your hand, “I love you, I think I always have.”

“Stop it,” you demand, pulling your hand away.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, worry in his expression.

“You love me?” you laugh, “It’s too good to be true. I loved you from the moment I met you and you never once returned those feelings. Over and over again, I tried to show you how I felt, hoping you would feel the same. Do you know how hard it was to stand by you day in and day out, praying that you would love me back? It was exhausting. Don’t sit there and tell me you love me when you so obviously don’t.”

It was only now that you realized you’d been shouting. The whole bar was staring at you, watching to see what would unfold. “Y/N, it’s not a lie,” Dean says softly as if he were a small, wounded animal, “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“Oh, shut up, Dean,” you say, standing from your seat, “I can’t take this anymore.” You rush from the building, apologizing to the people you push past. Tears stream down your face uncontrollably. It doesn’t take you long to get back to your room and as soon as you do, you slam the door behind you.

It was a cruel joke. Maybe Sam had finally told Dean how you felt and Dean decided to use that against you. You couldn’t be around him anymore. Grabbing your clothes and other supplies, you hastily stuff them into your bag. You were desperate to escape this suffocating room, desperate to escape from Dean.

“Y/N,” you hear Dean say through the door, “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. Please let me in and we can talk.”

Despite your efforts, you couldn’t keep yourself from crying. You shoulder you bag and head towards the door, pulling it open. “You can come in,” you tell him, “But I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” Dean asks in a panic, “Leaving to go where?”

“I don’t know,” you sob, “Anywhere but here.”

“Please don’t go,” he begs desperately. You stop as his hand catches your wrist. He moves to stand in front of you, his hands reaching for yours, fingers intertwining. “I know you think I’m lying, but how can I prove I’m not?” Dean asks, “I’ll do anything, just tell me what to do.”

“Let go of me,” you tell him through your tears.

“Y/N, please don’t leave,” Dean begs again, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Let me try and make this right, but please don’t go.”

“I said, let go of me,” you say again. Dean’s expression changes to one of intense sadness and you can feel your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. His hands loosen around yours, allowing your hands to slide free of his. “Goodbye, Dean,” you say, desperately trying to stop your crying.

You wanted to believe him, but you couldn’t. After all this time, why would he just come out and say he loved you? In your mind, it made no sense.

***

You’d been hunting on your own for months. In that time, you’d been sure to keep clear of the Winchesters. Despite your regret for having left them the way you did, you couldn’t go back, not now.

Dean had left you so many voicemails that you’d lost count. You never listened to a single one, but you’d never erased them either. Instead, you saved them to the archive of your phone.

Hunting helped to keep your mind off things. Though it was more dangerous to hunt alone like this, it was the distraction you needed. You hunted with others from time to time, but you never found anyone quite like Sam or Dean.

You wanted to go back, but you couldn’t let yourself do that, not after the way you’d accused Dean. If he ever loved you, he probably hated you now. You shouldn’t be thinking about this now, you were about to go on the hunt for a shape shifter and you needed to focus.

This particular shifter had taken on the guise of a wealthy business man. After killing the poor guy, he’d taken not only the man’s appearance, but his family, home, car, everything. You observed them and none of the family seemed to notice the change. Even so, you couldn’t let them live with a murderer.

When the man is alone, you sneak into the home, silver knife in hand. You thought you were being sneaky, but somehow he’d managed to trap you. “What are you doing in my home?” he asks from behind you.

You spin to find him standing there, playing with a gun. “This isn’t your home though is it?” you ask, trying to sound confident despite the fact that he had the upper hand.

“Well, yes and no,” he answers, “It wasn’t originally, but the people here have made me feel like part of the family.”

“Does that have anything to do with the fact that you’re wearing the face of their husband or father?” you question. You turn the knife in your hand and prepare to strike.

“Why can’t you hunters leave well enough alone?” he asks, “I’m happy here and I’m not hurting anyone.”

“No,” you scoff, “You only killed a man, but who cares about that, right?”

“Certainly not his family,” the shifter shrugs. With that, you lunge forward. The shifter tries to grab you, but you wiggle your way out of his grasp, your knife biting into his skin. “You’ll die for that,” the shifter hisses, “Then maybe I’ll take your form and kill everyone you’ve ever loved.”

“Not if I kill you first,” you growl. This time, the shifter doesn’t hesitate in raising his gun. You scream as the bullet hits your shoulder, the sound of the shot ringing in your ears. Luckily, the shifter had poor aim. Though you were wounded, it wasn’t fatal and you still had the ability to fight.

As the shifter takes aim again, you lunge forward and drive the knife into his chest. He screams in agony as the blade pierces his heart. After a moment, his lifeless body collapses to the floor. You clutch your shoulder and blood seeps between your fingers. Normally, you would clean up the mess, or try to anyway, but there was no way you were going to be able to move the shifter’s body alone and in your current situation.

You needed to leave, and quick. Getting back in your car, you speed towards your motel. In situations like this, it was always Sam who helped patch you up. After being hurt so many times, you knew exactly how to mend your wound, but things were different this time.

Finally, you reach your room and pull out your first aid kit. You hiss as you remove the bullet and clean the wound. There was nothing to distract you from the pain. In the past, when Sam had patched you up, Dean was by your side. He would wrap you up in his arms and tell you that everything was going to be alright, comforting you as Sam cleaned and stitched up your wounds.

You missed that comfort; missed being held by him. The sound of his voice is still clear in your mind and the thought of him makes you wish you hadn’t left. If he hadn’t lied to you that night, then you wouldn’t have left. At the same time, you couldn’t blame him for how you felt about him.

When your wound is bandaged, you pack up your supplies and toss them to the floor. You scoot to the top of the bed and lie back, reaching down into your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you find yet another message. Sighing, you decide it’s time to listen to them. You wanted to hear his voice.

The first few messages beg for your forgiveness, pleading for you to come back. Dean sounds genuinely worried. He’s afraid that you’ll get hurt if you hunt on your own. The messages go on like this for a while, but finally, there’s one that’s different.

“Y/N, it’s Dean again,” his voice says, “I don’t know if you’ve even listened to my other messages. I know now that begging you to come back isn’t going to work. Sam told me how you felt about me and it made me realize how stupid I am. I love you, Y/N, I always have, but I didn’t think you felt the same. I never wanted to hurt you or to make you believe I didn’t love you. Maybe you didn’t understand the way I felt because I kept it bottled up. Maybe if I had told you sooner, things would be different. I know that when I told you I love you, you thought it was a joke and now I understand why you felt that way. The thing is, it wasn’t a joke or a lie. I meant it. I don’t know if you believe me, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but I’d like you to understand why I did the things I did. If you’re willing, I’m asking for a chance to explain myself. I’ll let you go for now, but I’ll call again. I’m hoping you’ll answer, but if not, maybe you’ll listen to my message? I, um, anyway, talk to you later maybe?”

The message ends. A woman’s voice comes on asking if you’d like to save or delete the message. You opt to save it before listening to the next message. He deserved the chance to explain his side of things and you decided to listen to his every word.

“Hey, it’s me again,” Dean says, “I’m not sure if you got my last message or if you’ll get this one, but I feel like I need to explain. I’m not very good at sharing how I feel. I sorta just keep things bottled up inside until the come bursting out. That’s what I did with you. I loved you for so long and I kept it hidden until I just couldn’t anymore. That was my mistake. I guess to help you understand, I should start from the beginning, so here it goes …”


End file.
